


1971 Secret Colours

by busaikko



Series: Autumn Stories [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: scarvesnhats, M/M, Marauders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-03
Updated: 2005-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:41:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/pseuds/busaikko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <b>scarvesnhats</b> day 3 ("Autumn in the West" inspired the profusion of trees).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1971 Secret Colours

“Sirius,” said the voice again, and this time Sirius opened one eye, blinking at Remus Lupin just inches from his nose.

“School burning?” he asked, speaking into the pillow as he shifted to get his neck under the blanket again.

“Frost!” Remus said, and Sirius frowned. He had heard bad things about frost, cold and burning and biting, and it was hard to reconcile that with the glee on Remus’ face.

“Frost?” he asked dubiously, but apparently Remus took this for consent. Sirius’ blanket disappeared, and Remus tossed a pair of trousers and a jumper onto his bed.

“Hurry up,” Remus urged, glancing at the window. “There’s not much time.”

It was funny how you could live in the same dormitory with someone for a whole month and never notice that they were mad, Sirius reflected as he chased Remus down the hill from the school towards the forest. The grass was wiry stiff beneath his boots, and it shone like flames in the brilliant rose of dawn. Remus slowed at the edge of the forest, waiting for him to catch up. He hadn’t known how fast Remus was, either.

Impatient, breath coming in sharp white puffs, Remus grabbed the sleeve of his coat and pulled him into the woods, where their long shadows were swallowed by the shifting darkness. Sirius half-felt as if he might still be in bed, dreaming.

Then they broke out of the forest at the water’s edge. The ground was slippery with brilliant fallen leaves. The frost had settled here as well.

“Look,” Remus said, and pressed a wet leaf into his hand. “It’s a maple leaf. It must have just fallen to be so red. And this one, this is alder. And oak.” Remus pointed out each tree in succession. “Do you know why the leaves are these colours?”

“Magic,” Sirius said firmly. “That’s what my mum always said.”

Remus cocked his head to one side in a gesture that was part diplomacy, part amusement. “Almost as good as magic,” he said, after a bit of a pause. “The green in the leaves, that’s what makes the food for the trees. But when it gets cold, the trees stop growing, and don’t need food, right? So the green dies off. And once it’s gone, you can see all the other colours that were in the leaves all along, just hidden.”

Sirius stared at him. “So this was always yellow?” he demanded, waving the alder leaf in Remus’ face. Remus knocked it away. “And this one was always red?”

“When they’re green they’re all the same, but underneath they have secret colours,” Remus said, and the look he gave Sirius was one of gleeful conspiracy. He picked up a leaf shaped like a star and held it out.

“Maple?” Sirius guessed. Remus shook his head and crushed the leaf in his hand, releasing a delicate whiff of scent into the chill air.

“Sweet gum,” he said, and Sirius took it from him, rubbed the fragrance between his fingers. “Those little prickly balls are its seeds. Did you know,” he said, walking again, “fifty-five million years ago there were sweet gum trees? Isn’t that incredible? The resin,” he added, “is good for pain, in Potions.”

Sirius knew that Remus must have learned all of this somewhere. Perhaps at school, or from his parents. Maybe he had a gardening-mad uncle somewhere. It was absurd to feel jealous that someone had taught Remus these things and not him. Especially since until now he had not even known how much he did not know.

Remus was ahead of him now, half sliding down to the water’s edge, and as Sirius followed he realised that Remus’ feet were bare. Wet grass stuck to his ankles and toes, and it didn’t seem to bother him at all.

Remus stood, perfectly balanced, and gazed out over the lake. There was a soul-deep stillness; the lake a mirror exactly duplicating the ring of hills, the white of the sun over Remus’ right shoulder, the autumnal chorus of the forest.

“I miss being free,” Remus said suddenly, not turning around. “Sometimes… having to sleep behind those walls, it’s like being chained down. I hate being chained down,” he added, and dipped his toes into the lake. It rippled like mercury.

“I don’t think I’ve ever not been chained down,” Sirius said from the top of a great mossy stone that he had fallen in love with, its hardness, and its softness. He stretched, fingernails scraping the sky.

Remus turned and grinned. Sirius knew in that moment that his parents would hate this boy intrinsically, this boy who ran barefoot in frost, who greeted the trees by name, who belonged to the blue and brilliance of the autumn sky; who held out the promise that Sirius might, someday, belong too.

That was when the arc of icy water hit him full in the face.

“Race you!” Remus yelled, and Sirius hit the ground running, but Remus was already a shadow between the trees, empty footprints in the wet grass, a lingering sweetness.

And in the sunlight the frost was already gone.


End file.
